Tungstens Story
by TFGirl
Summary: Life is tough, But so am I. It's how I got my name after all. I didn't always have a name though. I used to respond to a specific sequence of code. I still remember the sequence— The one my brethren called me. I was known as W74
1. Chapter 1

**Tungsten's Story **

**Part 1**

**By Rachel Macari**

_ Life is tough… But so am I. That's always been my motto; it's how I got my name after all. I didn't always have a name though. I used to respond to a specific sequence of code; we all did as a matter of fact. The funny thing is back then, naive as I was, I never stopped to think of why we all had numbers and not names. _

_ The sad truth was for those of us built and sparked on the mining asteroid planes of the Axion belt, we didn't last long enough to be deserv'n of such luxuries such as a fullblown Cybertronian name. _

_ Sure, life was hard, but we lived it to the fullest. What we had was the thrill of the dig, and each other. I remember how the lot of them used to talk about how the mechs who came to collect our daily haul were rich in wealth, but poor in spark. At the time I didn't know exactly what that had meant. Those were good and simple times. Even millennia later to this day I still remember the sequence— The one my brethren called me. I was known to them as W74. _

"A42 get you and your subordinate's aft down to Subsection B on the double! The demos down there need help stabilizing the support pillars. You're my only chem mixer a Hic from there!" a booming voice laced with static crackled over the com beacon installed onto the side of A42's audio.

"What do you mean boss? I thought the group was doing retreat mining in that section. Isn't that the point: get rid of the supports?" A42 snapped back throwing a grin to his apprentice W74.

Not too far away W74 was chiseling away at a few raw ore deposits. As usual he loaded them onto a conveyor belt that would take them back to the surface to be processed.

"Don't get smart with me mech! Plans change like everything else in this pit of an asteroid facility." the boss bot replied irritably.

"So what you're meaning to say is that we didn't get clearance yet from the geo inspectors to collapse the site, and you figured we would go ahead anyways in hopes of speeding up progress, despite the dangers to us… again. But you ran into a snag… again, and you want us mecha-moles to clean it up for you... again." the other mechs mining nearby were listening in on the conversation frequency and snickered at A42's snarky assessment in amusement.

He was always a source of entertainment for his younger brothers. The mech seemed to find it his duty to bring light into a dark tunnel, W74 observed.

_ One thing about the mining colony, there were no luxuries like private coms. Word got around quickly fer that reason. That could be a really good thing, like save'n your skid plate when you had a million pounds of unprocessed slag lying on top of ya. Or, in that case, a really bad thing, as rumors and gossip spread like a plague and lasted forever. Needless to say for the pompous "Boss Bot"; as we all called him; that cycle was just not his shining moment. Not that many were—heh. I'd soon find out it wasn't going to be that great for me either. _

"Get your aft over there NOW! I swear to Primus if you screw this up, your aft is on cleanup for the slag containment for an Orn! And that's if I'm in a good mood!" the boss bellowed before disconnecting the line.

The others grunted and laughed, pointing at A42 in the universal sign of "Oooo you're in trouble!"

"You know why the boss is sweat'n oil right?" A42 walked over to W74.

"Hurm? How come?" the younger mech leaned an audio closer to the number one troublemaker on base.

"It's because we have a bunch of operatives from Metrocon roam'n round the tunnels here. Seems they have an Optic on our little facility. Overheard them mentioned they like to observe it for a few breems." A42 replied.

"Why would the Metrocon Colony care about us? They have many contracted facilities working to supply them with energon and other raw ores." W74 asked, genuinely curious.

"No clue… the weird thing is they don't seem to be as interested in the ore as they are in us. I've watched them. They try to blend in with us, but they stick out like Bent wire. I mean they're as short as a bunch a cassettes compared to us, hah!" the other chuckled.

"What? That doesn't make any sense. You think they're lookin' for a reason to relocate us or somth'n?" W74 asked as the two walked down the tunnel, "I do admit, I wouldn't miss the boss and his reckless ways. It would be a good thing to see what's out there."

"No idea on that one." A42 replied.

He looked over at the cave walls as they walked on an overhanging pathway. Gleaming and sparkling below were energon crystals in their rawest state. Not yet fully formed to be of any value, but they held a different sort of value to the miners.

"If that happens we'll most likely will get split up and shipped off away from this place… I hope that doesn't happen." A42 stopped on the trail to look out.

W74 followed his gaze.

"This place is a lot like us ya know. Rough everywhere, not an ounce of polish to be found. Well, let's face it, we all look like slag'n scrap." A42 guffawed while W74 laughed. "But… search around on the inside and there's a core of the right stuff to be found." A42 grinned as he gazed down at the iridescent crystals.

W74 smiled as the other turned back to him and clapped a hand on his back before they carried on their way.

_ A42 had been around the longest, all the rest of his cast brothers having been cut down or buried by an accident by then. He was all that was left of that generation and I respected him for that, despite his crazy antics. I thought that I had known what he had been talking about that cycle. I thought it had been about the place in which we all lived. I was immature, I didn't listen to what he had been truly telling me. _

_ Back then, my young spark longed for something more. What I thought I needed in life was energy, creds, and adventure. In reality I had what was most important all along. He had told me this was home. And now, as I look back, I see that miserable piece of scrap as my true home too. I realize that it wasn't the place that made the home, it was the sparks that lived in the pit with you. Because if you stop to think about it, even the wealthiest of us live in the same universe; the same refined materials. It's who you spend your time with that matters most. Pure and simple... like those energon crystals._

When W74 and A42 had arrived they were immediately put to work by the others, as always. The two of them mixed and applied bonding agents to reinforce the remaining support pillars holding the tunnels up. In the mean time, the site's team continued work in the tunnels branching off nearby. The sound of chisels and drills could be heard echoing and reverberating off the walls as they worked to dig their way to a newly-discovered, energon-rich vein.

A few chunks of rock broke away, falling around W74 and A42 as they worked.

"Figures, we always get the dangerous stuff." W74 muttered as finished applying bonding agent to an ominous crack in the cavern ceiling.

"You think they could stop drilling long enough for us to get this place stabilized?"A42 grunted as several large rocks detached from the ceiling and pelted his head.

"Those Z-class rookies— metal hides haven't even cooled from the forge yet." A42 sighed, not exactly pleased he was cleaning up after the boss again.

However, at overhearing W74 grumble prior, he chuckled.

"Get used to it W, the boss has it out for me. Sad to say you're next in line. Don't worry though, teaching you mixin' ain't the only thing I've been prep'n ya for, hah!" A42 answered as he sprayed on a special agent to harden the surrounding rock formations.

"And what's that?" W74 asked nonchalantly.

"To think for yerself and get his pressure hoses in a bind for me when I'm no longer here to do it hahaha!" A42's joyful banter mixing with the sounds of labor all around.

To W74 it was odd to hear such laughter when the environment they were working in seemed so tense.

"Yeah right! In your dreams! I'm not as crazy as you. No way am I getting on the boss's bad side!" W74 replied with a roll of his optics.

"I think it's a little too late fer that. Yer already on his 'to be slagged' list because of your association with me W. And where's your sense of fun? We don't live forever mech and you're supposed to be the younger one here! Phssh! It looks like I still have a lotta work to be done with ya, heh." A42 punched him in the shoulder in jest before inspecting his work.

"Everything reads stable now…" A42 nodded after doing a scan.

"Shouldn't we apply a few more supports before we head out? You know, just as a precaution?" W74 looked around then back to A42.

"Ahhh a mech after my own spark! Hah! If I didn't know any better I would 'a said you were from my same cast W." A42 nodded and went to fetch a few more support pillars for them to set up.

W74 puffed a bit with pride at the comment. Being called an A was the equivalent to being called wise beyond his years.

"Way to think for yerself W! I'll be right back. You need a special access code to get into the supply hanger and I'm the only one that's got one. So sit tight 'til I get back with the supplies." A42 called as he entered down one of the branching tunnels.

_ A42 always had a way of taking a bad situation and making it seem a little less stressful. Of course his methods usually entailed pranking me or cracking a joke that wasn't always in the best of taste. But he always succeeded in one thing and that was taking your mind off the slag you were in. And for that I miss him the most—no matter how annoying he may have been sometimes. But, then again, there's someone I know now that reminds me a lot of him. A younger, slag'n show off with a mouth that spins as fast as his drills… but still, he reminds me of him._

_ I wish I had never made that suggestion for more support beams. _

**BOOM!**

The cavern lurched suddenly as fire and heat flowed through the tunnels, filling the cavern and consuming any air inside. W74 was instantly engulfed by black smoke as dark as the inside of a crank shaft. The younger mech scrambled in surprise ducking falling debris as the cavern shook. The support pillars began whining and groaning; a few giving out. Luckily for W74 a few more held true.

_ Rock and ore had fallen all around me as the cavern had shaken; though it was mere pebbles compared to the boulders that others were being buried alive by. I had A42's bonding agents to thank for that._

_ I could hear their screams of agony being quickly muffled and it had frightened me to my laser core. I had only experienced a collapse a few times at that point and each time it was as chilling as the first. Never before had there been an explosion such as that one. and at the time why it had happened, had been the last thing to cross my processors. _

_ The only thing that kept pulsing through my mind over and over again was that my brothers and I were in deep trouble. Then it hit me like a sledgehammer to the faceplate—A42 had traveled down the very tunnel that now vented smoke and was consumed by destruction. _

"A42!" W74 coughed out smoke filling his vents as he called.

He made his way slowly down the tunnel where the other had gone.

" A42! Can ya hear me?" W sputtered again.

He brought his hands up to his optics wiping the soot and dust from his lenses. It wasn't long until he had come to the collapsed section.

"Is there anyone in there?... Anyone ALIVE!" W called out and waited.

Until that moment silence was not something that filled the tunnels, but now the lack of sound was even more troubling. The more time went by without a response, the faster the feeling of dread overcame W74. However, just when he was about to turn around and head back, there came a faint call.

"Euugh w-we're here W! We're here!"

Instantly there was a ray of hope in a sea of darkness.

"I'm coming for you! Hang on!"

W74 didn't know how long it would take or even if the rescue teams could get to them, but time was of the essence. There was no telling if another collapse could occur as a result of the stress and shifting debris.

W74 knew the dangers in digging through a collapsed section; A42 had taught him that; but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. With a hydraulic hiss W74 released the locks on his leg spikes. Two mining picks stuck out from his shin plating for him to grab. Bringing them up above his head he lunged forward with all his might, sending them into the debris that lay between him and his buried brothers.

_ With every swipe of my picks I can recall wondering if that would be the swipe I buried myself and perhaps the rest of them alive in a secondary collapse. Primus must have been on my side that day. _

"Raaagh!" W74 yelled as he put everything he had into his digging.

With one last swipe a boulder toppled away revealing an opening. Immediately, more smoke billowed through the hole and up into the tunnel W74 stood in. Clearing away what he could, he sent his scanners inside but was startled when a hand grabbed hold of his helm.

"Gah!" he shouted, surprised. But a familiar voice quickly calmed him.

"It's me mech! Guhh. You son of a glitch you found us…" A42's voice sounded weaker then normal.

" I can't see very well in this smoke, its mucked up my optics. Are you ok? There's more with you? How 'bout them?" W74 asked frantically as he worked to widen the entrance for them to get out.

As he did he began to spray the bonding agents he had mixed before to stabilize the tunnel he had just carved.

"I'm good enough. The others need assisting. Couple of 'em from Metro have no idea what to do down here— the soft pedes. Heh— uhhck." A42 tried to laugh but stopped in what sounded as a gurgling wince.

"You don't sound good A. I should—" W74 was interrupted.

"Just get them to the surface mech. I'll be fine. They take priority. They're our guests here, understand?"

W74 nodded reluctantly even though neither could see it in the pitch black. "What do you mean 'get them up'? Aren't you gonna help me! You're coming with us!" W74 crawled into the entrance he had widened and felt around the debris to try and help A42 to his feet.

What he felt caused him to pause in shock.

"Don't be surprised W… it is a cave-in... eucg, after all." A42 coughed out as energon dripped from his mouth.

W74 brought his arms up off the ground. He could feel the slickness of A's life on his hands. He felt the giant cold weight on top of the older mech. A sick feeling in W's tanks developed as he realized that A42 was crushed from the torso down by a giant boulder. There was hardly anything left of him.

"The others 'r behind that boulder in a cave over there. Most likely panicking by now. All of them are Metro's too."A42 groaned. "Frag'n ironic isn't it? None of our mechs made it out, but they somehow did. Must be them athletic types of theirs or someth'n. Eeuughaa" A42 gurgled and couched violently before gasping in the grunge filled air.

"I sealed them in there after the explosion and collapse. Heh uhng, darn fools were running toward me like a bunch a chickenoids with their heads cut off, so I shoved them into that crevice. Good thing too, just in the knick of euugh, time." A42 laughed despite shuddering in pain.

"A… you're…" W74 slumped forward shivering, wracking his frame as his hands splattered into the puddle of the others life.

His mentor's energon drenching his scuffed knees.

"Hey! Snap outta it W, the more time they spend down here the less likely they're getting' out eugnnhh. And that includes you… I'm not goin' to see my apprentice buried alive! Not when he finally got the hang of everything." A42 voice was but a whisper now and W74 looked up in the direction he knew his brother's face would be.

"Oh and… nice work euug with the bonding agent. Seems I ehuug, seems I don't have much left to teach ya after all." A42 chuckled out.

Weakly he brought his remaining good hand up to pat his apprentice on the shoulder one final time. Tears of optic fluid began to stream down W74's face. But despite what others of his kind would say, W74 wouldn't blame it on the smoke in the room.

"A… I promise I'll get them to the surface." was all he could say.

"That's my Mech." A42's optics began to fade further along with his voice. "Oh, and W… one last thing before I leave you to your job. Don't forget to rile up that clean-cut, crotchety, geezer for me while I'm away. Don't ever let him forget whose lives he's work'n with down here." W could not see it but he knew in his mind's eye that A was smiling as his spark finally passed over.

"I promise…" W choked out.

_ That cycle I learned for the first time what it felt to lose something precious… no ore, creds or energon cubes could have replaced that mech despite the popular belief that it could. Not to me anyways… one thing was for certain: never again, if I could help it, would a cave- in take another friend… another brother._

_ … _

"Watch your step. This way…" W instructed the other Metrocon mechs as they followed him through the treacherous incline to the surface. This had been the second time so far that he had to bore a new tunnel to a preexisting one just so they could get through.

"That slag'n con." one of the Metrocon mechs coughed out while another assisted him as he limped on a damaged leg.

"If only I had known it was him I would have slagged him on sight!" another commented.

"Shh!" W74 responded at that. "I need to be able to hear! Your speaking is distracting and making it hard to navigate the mine's signals. Keep your vocalizers muted." he grounded out, not in the mood to hear them complaining about… whatever it was they were complaining about.

As they moved steadily forward, there was still the occasional shift in the damaged crust that resulted in tremors and minor collapses.

_"There's got to be that mine hoverator somewhere down here. Primus, please let it still be intact."_ W74 thought to himself.

"You all stay here. It could be highly unstable up ahead. I got to go check it out first." he replied before moving on ahead.

The tunnels for the most part appeared to have remained intact through the whole episode; just a few more minor collapses here and there. Not to mention the smoke seemed to be dissipating just enough that he could see a few steps ahead of him. He kept walking and inching forward, but was beginning to lose hope in finding the elevation shaft. He had only been to this section of the mine on the rare occasion. However, just when he was wondering if he had made a wrong turn, he spotted it.

W74 immediately called back to the others. "Ok, It's safe! I found a way out! Let's move it! The longer we're down here the worse our chances are of get'n out." W74 repeated, a twinge of pain shot though his spark, knowing not long ago A42 had spoken those words to him.

As the others made their way slowly from the connecting tunnel to the hoverator there was a sudden yelp of pain that echoed. And not just any yelp one that was the result of surprise as well as agony.

"Slag! a collapse!" W74 mind instantly came to the conclusion as he hurried back to the others.

"I shouldn't have left them!" he berated himself. As he turned the corner, however, what he found was not a collapse at all. No, something even worse. There standing in the group of four was a fifth mech. Only this mech he did not recognize. He was much larger than the others and stood holding one of them by the neck, pressed to the wall with an energon blade imbedded to the hilt into the mech's internals.

"What the slag!" W74 thought as he backed behind the corner once more.

The dangerous mech had not seen him due to poor visibility or he just had not been looking for him.

"Let him go, Decepticon!" the one with a damaged leg shouted, unsubspacing a miniature, electro sword, while the other two weaponless mechs stood in a ready stance.

"Hah! You plan to fight me with that toothpick! You shiver in fear of me Autobot, I can smell it!"

Despite what the Con said the other did not back down.

"I have no fear of death. How about you hmm?" the Con smiled evilly. "You know it's thanks to you I'm here right now. If you had not interfered, I would be buried under the rubble like all the rest of these moles. I would be dead, having succeeded in my final glorious mission—this whole place was supposed to crumble by my hand not just one pitiful section!" the Decepticon yelled in rage before becoming eerily calm once more.

"But… I am alive and well and thanks to your interference you're all going to suffer, a slow, painful death!" the larger mech released the Metrocon mech who slid to the floor with a yelp, helplessly leaking energon from the wound.

"Y-your mad!" one of the other Autobots had shouted.

The Con poised himself ready to attack the remaining smaller mechs, "Am I now?" the con laughed, "Or am I just a mech with nothing left to lose?" he replied evenly before he pounced.

_ I found out later from the Autobots that, that Con was what they deemed a "Crasher"… he had been infected with a virus, notably a Con group. Most likely because he had ticked someone off. The virus was slowly eating his mind away so basically they give him the option to go out with a bang and be remembered as a hero for their cause, or fade away into insanity and be remembered for the crime he had committed to the group. A happy lot those Decepticons are, aren't they?_

At first W74 had been frozen in fear. He had heard stories of the Decepticons that others told him when he was younger to scare him and joke at his fright. He was unable to move as he simply listened. The more he listened though W74 found himself becoming increasingly enraged at this Con's words. He had been the one who killed A42 and the others! He had made a promise to A42 to get these survivors up to the surface and that was what he was going to do!

The Decepticon laughed as he lunged at the smaller Mech with the injured leg. However, before he could reach him, something rammed into him with a force great enough to knock his weapon from his hand.

"GUHA!" the large mech yelled in surprised as he was suddenly tossed off the edge of a tunnel outcropping, ramming into the floor of a naturally formed cave below.

The surprised Con flailed and wrestled with someone much bigger then any Autobot he had ever faced.

"You're going to pay for what you did to A42!" W74 shouted, enraged as he pounded his fists into the Con below.

The mech yelped in pain but it didn't take long before the other kicked him off.

"Slag'n Mole!" the Con got back to his feet faster then W74 could act and jumped onto his back capturing his head in a crushing embrace.

"Guurrk!" W74 struggled to free his helm as the other applied pressure, causing the housing to crack. He had not expected such a fast recovery from the other.

Then again, he was a Decepticon; a trained killer!

W74 slammed the mech into the wall behind him, but it did nothing to loosen the other's grip. Spotting a sharp boulder W74 slammed the Con into the formation with all his might.

"GRAHH!"

The reaction was instantaneous as the Con cried out and his grip loosened from the sharp blow to his back. Turning around, W74 landed two solid punches into the Con's face causing him to sputter out energon with each blow. The Con was not through though, as he grabbed hold of W74 and forced his knee into the other's midsection in return.

W74 coughed out energon as the Decepticon continued to pummel him in the face back and forth. He fell backwards, his systems dizzy and his face throbbing from dents and cuts.

"Stupid mole, I'm going to bury you down here with the rest of your drone brothers! That's all you are, a bunch of drones digging away for your Metrocon masters!" the Con dashed over retrieving his fallen energon blade.

The Con walked up to the disoriented mech as he lay near the edge of an energon crystal formation, "It's too bad I have to kill you. With that stunt you just pulled, I'm sure the others would'a made a good Decepticon out of you; with that rage of yours 'n all."

W74 began to refocus just as the Con's blade sliced deep into his midsection like he had done to the other Autobot before.

"Aaahhhggg!" he cried out in pain as the Con twisted the weapon deeper into him before withdrawing it and sending it into his shoulder.

His arm went limp, the Con striking a nerve bundle. The maniacal mech chuckled as he crouched above him bringing his face uncomfortably close to his.

"Go on Mole, scream louder, It's music to my audios!" he laughed as he withdrew the blade and sent it into the other shoulder rendering it useless as well. W74 struggled and kicked to get away, but the Con had him pinned, and the Autobots were too damaged and too far up the path to help him now.

"Well, well, well, a mole without his dig'n arms— what a shame. What you gonna do now? Perhaps you are better off dead like me!" the Con gave an insane guffaw; much different than the hearty laughter of A42.

"How bout this! Grahh!" W74 yelled as the shoulder pipes on his back angled and shot out a corrosive chemical right into the Cons face and optics.

"GYEAAARRRAHHH!" the Con screamed out in fury and pain as he dropped his blade and stood up clutching at his optics.

"YOU, YOU blinded me! You destroyed my face you slagger Mole! You're dead! You're deaaahhhd!" the Con gurgled, metal literally dripping from his face as he stumbled around aimlessly in shock.

Before W74 could speak up however, the Con had stumbled his way right over the nearby ledge right into a crystal crevice below.

"AHHHHhhhh!"

**SCREEECH!**

The sound of the mech's frame being impaled by numerous energon crystals below was not a sound W74 never wanted to hear again. He decided he just lay there for a moment and rest.

However, the others called to him standing above him. How had they gotten down to him that fast? Or had he just been out of it that long? As he came to he noted how all four of them now looked down to him, concern on each of their faces. He couldn't exactly make out what they were saying at first as his senses were a bit fuzzy from being battered around. Soon, however, they began to return to him.

"We gotta get back up to the lift. C'mon son well help you." one of the Autobots helped him to his feet.

"Uhng th-thanks…" W74 replied and shook his head.

However, the throbbing pain in his abdomen and his shoulders did nothing to help him.

"You took quite a beating from that Con. We weren't sure you'd make it. Sorry we couldn't get down to help ya faster. Our medic had to stabilize our scout." one of them replied.

"Uhhg it's ok… I wasn't really expecting you—"

One of the others cut him off, "You know we were about to double team the guy when you came flying in at him. Now that was a sight! Bulldozer crashing into bulldozer." the mech laughed.

"Uhhg, well my head feels like its been run over by a bulldozer… oh yeah wait…" W74 answered a little less enthusiastic about the whole thing.

The group of them were almost back to where they had been prior to the attack.

"Haha! You hear that? Almost got slagged and this kid has still got a sense of humor!" the other laughed.

It was easy for them to laugh they probably had seen a lot more action than he had.

"That wasn't bad fighting back there, for someone untrained." another mech replied.

"Yeah, well, I'm disappointed I missed it." the one who had been stabbed replied.

"H-how did you… recover so…" W74 asked and nodded to the damaged mech.

"Oh he's the best medic this side of the galaxy. Got you working again for the most part after he got me back on my feet" Tungsten could make out the yellow patturn of the mech speaking to him as he pointed to the one on his right.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Besides, I still need to finish the job once I get the proper parts." the medic grunted.

"Oh I see. Well, thank you." W74 replied to the medic.

"Your arms are going to need more work though. Both of your shoulder nerve clusters were destroyed along with both of your energon tanks being ruptured. It's gonna be a nightmare rewiring and fixing both of you reckless slagheaps up."

W74 glanced at the grumbling medic. He had never encountered a medic speak like that. If he hadn't known any better he would have thought the other fit right down in the mine with a mouth like that.

"When we get back to the surface I'll have to bring you back to HQ to use the equipment to get that fine-tuning work done on you."

"Huh? No, that's not necessary we have medics here. I appreciate your—" W74 was interrupted.

"Don't argue with me! You're coming! We owe it to you for what you did back there. Besides, they wouldn't know a fuel line from an air compressor those mine medics, bah!" the medic grunted and the others laughed.

"Oh, sorry by the way, we didn't introduce ourselves. I'm Highgear." the dusty red mech replied, "And the greens Beamblast, Crosshots the yellow mech standing to your left, and the medic Repatch is to your right." Highgear replied pointing to each.

W74 nodded, a bit surprised; he had never heard of such names before. He looked a bit confused at the others as the group was now nearing the hoverator that would bring them back to the surface.

"Well what's your name? We introduced ourselves it's only proper to do the same." Repatch inquired as they all walked onto the hoverator and Highgear activated the ascend controls.

"Oh uhh…W74 is my designation." he responded.

The others looked at each other then back at him.

"That's _really_ your name?" Crosshot held back another laugh but winced as Repatch poked him in his patched abdomen.

"Ow!" he complained.

"It's my designation… I… I don't have a _name_ as you call them." W74 replied not understanding what was wrong.

"Well there's no way, we're calling you W74. Geez! Sounds like a droid's name." Beamblast looked to the others, but Highgear slapped the other operative across the back of his head.

"Don't be rude to this mech! He and his friend paid a great price to save our lives." Highgear crossed his arms before turning to W74.

"Would you mind if you gave us a Cybertronian name we refer to you by?" he asked.

"Well, sure. I mean, I guess I could think of something. I've never thought about it before." W74 was really indifferent to the whole idea anyways.

"Choose something cool! Oh! Like Drillrunner, or Digmaster, Oh, oh or GroundCrusher!" Crosshot put in his two cents in.

"He can choose whatever he likes you glitch head." Repatch rolled his optics at the youthful scout.

"What should I think about when doing this?" W74 inquired.

"Oh, it's easy! Just think about what best describes you. If it helps; for example, your build is rather large and you have thinker armor than most. I suspect that Con had to apply a lot of force just to have stabbed you in the places he did. I noticed he chose places where your armor was not the thickest." Highgear surmised.

W74 just winced as the pain still shot through his circuits. Someone talking about it wasn't helping him get his mind off of it either.

"Yes, you didn't give up even when you were stabbed three times by that slagger." Beamblast added.

"Just pick something that fits you already! All this talk of stabbing is makin' me want to hurl something." Repatch huffed.

The more W74 thought about it the more he fancied the idea of having a Cybertronian name. He really didn't know much about how to name himself, but he did know mining. So, he supposed he should choose from something he knew. Something tough… something that described him…

"Tungsten." he answered with a nod of his helm.

"Ah, that free element is remarkable for its robust physical properties, especially the fact that it has the highest melting point of all the non-alloyed metals." Highgear explained to the other younger mechs who gave a blank look to Tungsten.

"Yes, heh! That makes sense, indeed. A fine name!" Highgear clapped his hands together.

"Well then it's nice to meet you Tungsten." Repatch also nodded.

"Heh, I'd shake your hand but ya know…" Crosshot laughed and Beamblast rolled his optics.

"You know after we get you back to HQ for repairs, I have and offer I like to make to you Tungsten." Highgear added.

_ And an offer he did make. Turns out the Cons had been attacking several of Metrocon's supply mines in a new tactic to cripple the Autobot forces. As a result the Autobots were now look'n for new recruits and I happened to fit the list of what they wanted perfectly. Imagine that. They needed someone with my knowledge on how mines were set up and functioned, and perhaps my build and size didn't hurt either. _

_ After the attack they had stationed troops at all the facilities to prevent any further infiltration and ensure the miners' protection. Something I wish to this day they would have thought to do ahead of time, instead of sending a bunch of scouts and a medic to keep a look out. I guess their forces were spread pretty thin though. Or they just didn't think to invest enough time and resources for a bunch of moles._

_ At first I did decline the offer, I had to look after my brothers and help them fix up the mine after the Cons sent everything to the pit. Not to mention, I needed to get away from that insane medic. After get'n my repairs from Repatch I don't think I had any audios left from the time I spent recovering my arms' motor functions._

_ Never thought I'd become friends with that hotheaded son of a glitch, but somehow an understand'n or something had formed between the swearing and wrench throwing—but that's another story._

_ When I got back we had to dig up a lot of our fallen brothers. It was the highest fatality count in a collapse at Axion. I will never forget what the Cons did to them—what they did to A42._

_ Then the time came when I felt I wanted more outta life than the present provided. My naïve, young-self thought I could stand to gain from going out and seeing the universe with the Autobots of Metrocon. Yeah, I was stupid. _

_ But I wasn't going to be joining any Autobot military without first makin' good my promise to A42. So, needless to say, one morning "Boss Bot" finds he's been painted a rather lovely; if I do say so myself; shade of pink, adorned with the mechly accent of purple polka dots. But that wasn't the best part of it. No, I think the best part was when I walked into his room and declared that I was leaving for Metrocon after he read my lovely parting note. The look on his plump, pink, purple polka-dotted face was priceless. A42 would have loved it, I know it in my spark. _

"The name's Tungsten! And _you_ Boss Bot, will watch out for my brothers while A42 and I are away. Or else yer gonna find these pictures of yer true colors uploaded to every archive this side of the Metrocon data feed! And that's a promise!"

_ Life is tough. But in my opinion, the guys had it pretty dang good after that._

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Tungsten's Story**

**Part 2**

**By Rachel Macari**

_I remember the first day I arrived on Metrocon. The day I was to register and become another number. This time one of many thousands who occupied the over-glorified piece of space junk. Though, I recall how the others had laughed at me when we entered into the heart of the orbital colony of Metrocon; how they had joked that a retro-rat could have jumped into my gaping mouth. HAR HAR… _

_ Sure, I had been to the Autobots' HQ before; it was located just outside the city itself. But never had my optics taken in the sights of such a frenzy of motion, noise, and wonder. The whole place was in constant flux. Lights had flickered from holo-date feeds on every corner of the complex displaying the latest trends and products. It amazes me still to this day how so many cultures mixed into each other 'til it formed a whole new society all its own. _

_ The place had not only been a refuge for us space-weary Cybertronians, but a trading outpost with friendly (I stress "friendly") alien races. Come to find out later they were an important part to the successful economics of the super colony. That was not to say that anybody could get in either; security was tight for the place. Patrols were regular; the Autobots enforcement of the whole place was rather strict, but for good reason. Heck, half the residents were Autobot veterans from the time of the Great War. See, to me everything about Metro was a little over the top. I had always been a simple mech and to have so much thrust at my sensor net at once was nothin' short of culture shock. _

_ As I look back on it today, I know it was all superficial glamour to hide the truth of the dire circumstances of those times. But… at the time I thought I had found that great adventure, that possibility for creds, energon, and more, that my spark had so longed for. _

_ What a wake up call I was in for… _

_ The first day was rough; training was intense. And you know when a Mole like me tells you it was intense, that's sayin' something. I suppose, now that I think about it, they wouldn't have tolerated anyth'n less. We were the first line of defense against anything the universe could throw at the colony. That included the Cons and alien space pirates alike. _

_ "This is not home. Don't get comfortable!" they had said. "This is not Cybertron!" they rammed that into our processors over and over. _

_I specifically remember what one of the drill sergeants, who had taken a liking to me, had screamed. Because that's what they do when they like you, they scream and beat the living slag outta you… that wasn't a joke. _

_ What was his name again? Oh yeah, Kup had yelled into my audio when I had failed to eliminate a target while running for my skid plate from an automated stun system. I had gotten my aft stunned. Never was good at running. _

_ "This is space kid, black and unforgiving! If you don't mech up, it will eat you alive like a petro rabbit! And when it's done chewin' on your half-digested hunk of tin hide, it'll spit yer remains out to be swallowed up again by the slag'n void itself. And, Primus help you, if it don't get you first __**I **__will! Now get back up and run it again!" _

_I guess it's why I faired pretty well after that. The old mech was a pretty slag'n good motivational speaker. _

_ Time seemed to fly by rather quickly. All the Vorns that passed seemed to blur together along with the endless shifts on patrol; that was my job after all. Part of my duty to the Autobots entailed me going out on patrols in a space cruiser along with a couple others. We would always keep a look out for anything outta the ordinary and report back if we found anythin'. _

_ My other duty was on ground shifts, patrolling the streets of the docks where traders set up stands. I didn't have much of a social life, but that's where I got to know many a bot and organic. I had many acquaintances, but not very many true friends. Probably one of the only constants in my life was that stubborn Repatch who would reluctantly patch me up when I got into it with a contraband trader and his thugs, or on the less frequent occasion a chance to help a damsel in distress (much to Repatch's chagrin). What can I say? I did meet a few femes here and there. I'm a mech… so sue me. _

_But the problem was… _

_ "You never have enough time for me!" they would say before slap'n me in the face before dumping my sorry aft. _

_Can't say I blame them now. Back then, I was a little too dedicated to the "Autobot Cause". As I look back, I question if my younger self was indeed that or someone completely different. I know the guys got a good chuckle from it… the glitch heads._

_ They knew I really didn't have much of a choice. The only reason I got to live on that sorry excuse for Cybertron was because I was part of the Autobot forces. I doubt I could have made it any other way back then—not a mech with __**my**__ background anyways. No, they would have sent me right back to Axion. Besides, I think those femes were just looking for a rich mech to sweep 'em off their feet…meh. _

_ I __**will**__ say, however, with all that "free time" on my hands I dedicated my greatest efforts to keep that colony safe. I came to view it as my home almost as much as Axion. I didn't want what happened to the mines to ever happen to these people. For one thing, I knew that most of the mechs and femes living there couldn't take it like us moles or the soldiers could if something were to go down. It's also the only reason why I stayed on that rock as long as I did in the end._

_ I recall the day a rogue Decepticon group finally managed to sneak its way in past the guard stations with several tons of weaponry to boot. They had been planning to take out the entire power grid, including the one that powered the atmospheric life-support that many of the organics needed to function. The Cons had barricaded themselves into the control room of the station deep below the city. There was no way our forces would get to them in time through the normal passageways. So I did the one thing any mole would do. I dug. _

_ The surprise on their faces as I plowed a hole right into our own control room, with a squad of Autobot forces behind me, I would have compared to the pink-spotted face of my old boss. The fight was over pretty quick after that. _

_ Needless to say, I started building a positive reputation amongst the higher-ups. I was upped in ranks quite a few times through the expanse of a few Decacycles. In fact, I had been celebratin' with my friends the cycle I had gotten the call. Funny how something as simple as a comm can screw up a perfectly good time. _

"Tungsten, you are to report to the Commander's office in quadrant A section 234 within the Joor." the communication transmitted as emotionless and to the point as always.

Tungsten sighed as he sat the high grade down that he was just about to take a good long swig of.

"Seems like the Commander wants to see me despite the 'off duty' thing…" Tungsten spoke to the others who all gave a few "Awws" and grunts in response.

"Just when the party was getting started big guy! The commander has impeccable timing don't he? Hah!" Crosshot laughed.

"Yeah he does… whatever it is, it's important enough for him to call me when I'm off duty. So, I gotta get going. Save me some of the high grade, would you?" Tungsten said as he made his way to the exit of the conference room that had been sporadically turned into a "party room" for his inauguration as a Lutenus.

…

"You wanted to see me Commander Magnomus, sir?" Tungsten saluted and stood at attention with his fist on his chest respectfully.

"At-ease Lutenus Tungsten." the commander saluted briefly to the newly decorated lieutenant before him, "I would first like to congratulate you on your promotion. You have most certainly earned it serving this great colony. Many of the men here, including myself, have high hopes for you." the commander sat back motioning for Tungsten to take a seat across from him as he activated a holo-monitor in the center of his desk.

"However, as you must have figured out by now, I have called you here for a much different reason." the commander punched the coordinates into the device and immediately the room was filled with simulated stars and constellations.

The mech took a pointer and directed it to a quadrant at the very edge of the Axion belt; even further from where Tungsten used to live. Tungsten observed it was at the very edge of their normal patrol spectrum, to say the very least.

"As you know, there has been an increase of piracy in the southern quadrant of the Helix Galaxy." the commander addressed the area, to which Tungsten nodded, "It would seem that they have extended their range much further out than previously anticipated, to this quadrant here." the copper and gold mech explained.

"Sir, if I may?" Tungsten waited until the Commander gave his approval. "Why would they travel out that far? There are hardly any resources out in that direction. Not to mention, not many shipping routes pass that way either. No place to establish a base or the materials to maintain it. The only thing out there is a dead planet." Tungsten inquired respectfully.

"A good observation. It _is_ most unusual. We are unsure exactly as to why, but it would seem they have shifted their tactics. You see Tungsten, the only ships that pass through that quadrant are often small to medium-sized passenger ships carrying refugees from the outer reaches." he paused to pull up a chart displaying such types of ships and the personnel that pilot them. "What is most disturbing about this fact is that none of the ships have made it back to our docks safely in over a decacycle. Not even the explorers sent out in that direction have returned to us or broadcast any sort of distress signal, which leads me to suspect that pirates are now targeting civilian vessels originally presumed to be of no value to them." the mech looked stern and foreboding.

Tungsten looked worried and more then a bit upset at this news, "What would they want with a few refugees sir? Most of them are injured or creditless. Heck, half of 'em are sick with Cron Poisoning or energon deprivation."

"It could be that the Con Pirates are trying to swell their ranks by taking prisoners and forcing them to do their dirty work." the commander looked angry, stood up and turned away.

His discontent was most notable in his clenched fist as he looked out from his window down at the bustling city of civilians below. When the commander had risen from his seat so had Tungsten; it was disrespectful to sit when the commander stood.

"Whatever the case, we cannot afford to turn a blind eye. There could be innocent Cybertronians and Organics alike being victimized. Or it they simply have yet to return." the commander turned around and looked to Tungsten. "I called you here so you could be ready first thing the next solar cycle to ship out. I want you to take a crew and investigate the area for an Orn and report on what you find." he walked up to his desk and grabbed a data card while switching off the holo projector.

"In any case do not engage. I am aware this is your first mission as Lutenus, not to mention it is the farthest from base any patrol has ever gone." Magnomus paused letting his words sink in. "I know you have a courageous reputation, but you also tend to disregard protocol at the excuse of circumstance." Magnomus gave Tungsten a look, but there was an amused glint in his optics. "I, however, am aware you of all mechs know what we as Autobots stand for, and because of that I am entrusting this mission to you." he walked around the long desk.

"While you're on recon I want you to search for survivors, or anyone who many know what's been happening to those ships. Again, under the circumstance you find survivors and they are being held by Con Pirates, you radio for backup and do not engage." the commander instructed as he handed Tungsten the specs of the operation. "These mechs will be your crew."

Tungsten looked down at the holocard as he read the names. Among those listed were Nitrox, Techno, and Crosshot. Each mech presented different specialized skills for what they would need on the mission. Techno was good at triangulating and enhancing communications, while breaking cryptic code. Nitrox was particularly talented in flying a ship under the radar through difficult spatial terrain and doubled as a sniper. Tungsten knew Crosshot personally. He was exceptional at scouting, having come a long ways from his time in the Axion mine. All fine mechs.

"They also have been sent a data card for the mission. I leave it to you to brief them on the rest." Magnomus nodded.

"Yes sir, Commander!" Tungsten saluted him at which the commander did the same in return.

"You are dismissed… Oh and enjoy the festivities Tungsten." Magnomus gave a approving nod to the new Lutenus.

"Heh, yes sir!" he grinned before the door hissed shut and he made his way back to the party.

…

_The next day we had shipped out right on schedule. Of course, for some of us, it was easier getting into the swing of things than others. Crosshot had not been too happy about having to power up early the next solar cycle with a processor ache the size of a space cruiser. I guess I should have warned him against downin' that much high grade the night before. I didn't want to spoil his fun and, to be honest, I had thought he could handle it. But, I guess some are just lightweights. _

_So, like always, the trip out was relatively normal. We scanned the surrounding space as we went and kept a sharp optic out for anything out of the ordinary. The process was monotonous and boring, much to Crosshot's annoyance. _

_ "When are we gonna see some action Tungsten? There's gotta be an outpost we could dock and investigate out here… or something! I'm no good stuck in a ship, you know that! My processors are freezing up this is so boring!"_

_The kid never seemed to want to sit still. I would always find him training with a droid in the hull or trying to get __**me**__ to spar with him. _

_ Heh, the reason I knew he was steadily going stir crazy was because nobody __**ever**__ asked me to spar with 'em. I'll be honest, it was probably because more often than not they knew they would get their afts handed to them, heh heh. Magnomus may have chosen him correctly for his skills, but his personality made him probably the worst mech for this mission. I sometimes felt there wasn't an ounce of patience to be found in him. The others faired pretty well however, as I can recall. All strict, not very talkative-types. For that reason they didn't help the time pass for me either. _

**Beep Beep Beep**

"I'm picking up something on the scanners!" Nitrox suddenly announced. "Navigating towards the origin… It's coming from Alpha 5!" the red mech exclaimed.

Crosshot awoke from an unintentional recharge at his monitor station and subsequently fallen out of his seat at the sudden noise, "Wh-what? You've gotta be kidding me! It's the last fraggin' cycle out here and _now_ we pick something up?"

"It appears to be a distress beacon coming from that dead planet." Techno analyzed the signal further.

"Any idea who or what it's coming from?" Tungsten inquired, standing behind the mech who typed diligently at his consol.

"No idea sir. The code is too jumbled and fragmented. But it does looks like a dialect of Cybertronian. All I can tell is it's being transmitted in a frequency that is reserved universally for SOS transmissions only." Techno answered.

"One thing's for sure, some of our kind are down there. Whether they're friendlies or not is another story…" Nitrox added.

Tungsten went up to take his seat on the top level of the control deck, "Hrm… you're right. But we still need to investigate. It could be one of our missing transports. Can ya triangulate its position if we get into orbit, Techno?"

"Yes, it shouldn't be an issue. Just give me a few clicks." the neon green and silver mech replied.

While he worked Nitrox brought the ship into orbit around the planet prepping it for the trip down to the surface they soon would be making.

"I got a lock on the beacon. I'm setting the target destination now… Okay Nitrox whenever you're ready." Techno along with the others activated the Magno straps that would keep them safe in their seats as the ship entered the atmosphere.

"All right! _Finally_ this is going somewhere! I hope we get to see some action!" Crosshot cheered.

_ Looking back now, it would have been better if I had been sent on the mission alone, but I know that was against the system. No one went out alone in that type of territory. It was against protocol and an incredibly stupid thing to do. Still, call me a stupid mole, but it would have been better if I had been the only mech piloting that ship. _

_ Not because the crew didn't do their jobs or they were unbearable to be around. No, that was the problem, they were a good dedicated group of mechs. They were all talented and bright. Heck, I think all three of them had more wits to them than me, I'll admit. They had femes and lives back home, more than I could ever have hoped for. They were good soldiers who had so much going for them. To this day I wish it had just been me on that ship. I wish Crosshot had not gotten his foolish wish…_

…`

**THUD HISSSSSSS**

The ship made a clean touch down as all four legs contacted the ground with a steady hydraulic hiss. The hull doors opened up to the dry desert climate of the planet. As they did a wide ramp extended out from the ship and lowered to the ground with a puff of dust. Only three of the mechs exited the ship, having opted to leave Nitrox in the ship just in case. The others' pedes clanked on the metal ramp until they reached the dusty surface which were silenced by the forgiving red earth.

"Looks like it's been here for a while…" Tungsten observed the broken down ship that lay a few mechano-meters from where they stood. Its remains were half buried in a great dune as the winds of the plain had blown over its long, dilapidated form.

Tungsten began to trudge his way toward the ship's remaining exposed hull, "I hate to say this, but… I don't think we're gonna find anything pretty."

"Gee, whatever gave you _that_ idea?" Crosshot laughed, at which Tungsten gave him a stern look and he shut up.

"If there is anyone they would be inside. I think, given the climate and make up of this region, I doubt anyone, organic or mechanical, could have survived out here. There's no resources at all, just sand. The strange thing is, my scans can't penetrate this sand more then a few Sumns deep. There must me an electromagnetic property to it or something." Techno analyzed as they approached the damaged ship.

"That explains the weird static feeling." Crosshot brushed at his armor when the sand seemed to stick to it slightly.

"Reverse the polarities in your field, it should keep the sand out of your joints." Techno answered.

"And here I thought it was just me havin' a bad feeling about this place…" Tungsten answered. "Ok, ready your weapons mechs. We don't know what's on the other side of this hull door," Tungsten replied as he activated the controls once the others had their guns aimed.

He wasn't expecting the controls to activate, but work they did. With a disturbingly uncomfortable screech the hull opened up to the three mechs. What lay inside was not much different than outside.

The interior was filled with the red magnetic sand. Wires and circuitry lay exposed in many integral sections that were to run the ship. One untouched section, however, seemed to be coming from where the red beacon flickered, as it sent out its seemingly futile signal time and time again. After checking the surrounding area, the mechs lowered their weapons and subspaced them before they got to work inspecting the junk for any clues.

As they walked around, the most disturbing thing to Tungsten was not the damage to this ship, but the lack of any bodies; dead or alive. No one was here... so where had they all gone to in such a hurry? They had left the SOS beacon blaring? Not to mention how long ago could that have been then? It could have been deca-cycles ago by the looks of the wreckage or even longer. Had the Pirates gotten to them first… or had something worse happened?

"This… is unsettling." Tungsten murmured to the others over the comm, but was surprised to find their responses scrambled.

"Looks like it's all vocals from here. The magnetic field of this place is screwing with all our comms." Techno answered as he walked up to the consol of the ship and began typing.

"We better stay close to the ship then." Tungsten answered.

"This place is spooky. I checked the first and second levels, and nothing. I suggest we check the storage hold, ya know, in case there's something in there." Crosshot walked up to the two. "Hey what are you doing Techy?" Crosshot asked as he leaned over the other.

Techno clicked away at the consol, "I'm accessing the frequency codes. If I can get in, I may be able to read what this distress signal is broadcasting… and don't call me that. I've told you I hate it."

Techno would have accessed the consol normally via a data-feed user-interface, but it was too risky given they didn't know if the systems could be harboring any sort of virus. It was what "techies" such as Techno were trained for.

"All right, well, this area is secure from what I can see. Just keep on optic out while you work Techno. Crosshot and I are going to check the cargo hold." Tungsten motioned to the young scout and they made there way up a few levels.

"You got it Sir!" Techno nodded before continuing his work at accessing the consol.

Tungsten observed the ship seemed to be built differently than most, in that the cargo was located in the upper sections and to the rear. That meant it was probably the section of the ship the others had seen that was not yet buried by the dune along with the upper hull they had entered in through.

The two came to a sealed door at the end of the entryway.

"Don't worry boss, I got this!" Crosshot smiled as he flicked out a lock breaking kit built into his arm.

Within moments the door creaked as it slid open. Tungsten had flinched when Crosshot had called him "boss". It wasn't exactly what he was used to being called and it made him feel... old.

Tungsten stepped forward first since the door had not fully opened. He placed his hands on each of the doors and pushed. It didn't take much effort for him to open them up and see what lay beyond. Tungsten stared, flabbergasted. There, stacked to the ceiling, were several full crate hauls of Metrocon credits.

"What in the pit…?" Tungsten swore under his breath as he stood stock still in shock at the sight.

Crosshot, on the other hand, ran in and grabbed hold of a pile in awe, "There's gotta be a million creds or more in here! How in Cybertron could somebody not have found this by now!"

The younger mech looked up to Tungsten and handed him a cred. Tungsten inspected it to see if it was the real thing and not counterfeit. It was indeed a legitimate cred.

"That is the million credit question isn't it? I'll be slagged. This doesn't make any sense!" Tungsten looked around still flabbergasted and more then a little concerned. "This must have been a Pirate ship. That's the only explanation I have for this. But… why would they just leave this all behind?" He walked around the crates. "Pirates are greedy sons of glitches. There's no way! And like you said, how has no one claimed this? There's been a beacon blaring on this ship for who knows how long. No, this doesn't sit right with me…" Tungsten shook his head trying to wrack his processors.

"No clue. But I'm willing to bet that the Commander is gonna want to know about this!" Crosshot answered at which Tungsten nodded.

"Cross, head back and inform Nitrox of the situation. Tell him to try to get a data packet through this interference. Send it out to HQ regarding what we have found here. There's gotta be some connection to this ship and to why none of those travelers have made it back as of late. This many creds just lying around… I tell ya something smells fishier then a Sharkticon." Tungsten replied as Crosshot gave a quick nod and ran back to the ship.

Tungsten made his way back to Techno through the hull and into the control room while Crosshot dashed back out the hull entrance.

"So what have you found, Techno?" Tungsten called to the tech savy mech as he watched Crosshot excitedly run by him.

He shook his head at the other. However, when he turned to look for Techno, the mech was no where to be found.

"Techno?" Tungsten called and looked around the room. "Techno, Mech, you better not be messin' with me, because if you are…" Tungsten continued to look for the mech.

He figured the mech may just have moved into the control room. Walking up the ramp Tungsten looked inside. Still no Techno.

"Techno, where the pit are you!" Tungsten tried his comm, but again all he got was static. "Scrap it…" Tungsten swore as he made his way back through the hull.

He had to make sure the mech had not gone back to the ship before Crosshot. That had to be it; he had gone back because he had found something.

"Would have been _nice_ if he told me he was goin' for a stroll beforehand. Gonna have to work on that communication thing." Tungsten's thoughts were interrupted when suddenly there was a loud rumbling that came from outside. He ran to the entrance, but Crosshot barreled into him and forced him back inside.

"OUFF! Wha—?"

Tungsten was about to ask then Crosshot's panicked voice filled the air, "Tungsten! It's gone! The—the ship! I was on my way to it when suddenly these huge metal tentacles just shot outta the ground and grabbed the whole slaggin' thing! Then some sort of door opened up and just swallowed the ship whole! I've never seen that happen and— and Nitrox tried to take off, but someone must of used an EMP on it! He was on there! OH SLAG! Nitrox was on there and I saw him go under with it!" Crosshot babbled in a panic.

Tungsten suddenly threw his hand over the young mech's vocalizer to shut him up. He had heard something stir from behind them.

Without turning around, he whispered to the mech in the most calming voice he could manage at that moment, "Cross… listen to _me _mech… I need to you run. As soon as I turn around, you go. Understand?"

The mech nodded with wide optics. He looked like he would try to protest but Tungsten held his hand firmly in place.

"I need you to keep running no matter what. Use those scout legs of yours." Tungsten whispered urgently as he heard the slithering sound from behind him grow slightly louder.

He hated sending his friend off on his own, but he knew the younger mech knew what to do despite his shock. He was trained. He would do what a scout was particularly good at, run, hide, and fight to survive.

"GO!" Tungsten shouted and Crosshot was off.

He swung around un-subspacing his dual ion blasters and rained down several rounds into the ground below them. There was the sound of a hissing, mechanical screech as whatever it was below had been hit. Suddenly, to Tungsten's sheer horror, the whole dilapidated ship began to power up. Trap doors and hidden tech suddenly flipped open and into view. Among the mechanisms were several wires that resembled robotic tentacles. As they reached towards him he turned for the door but suddenly it was no longer there.

"Sealed in!" he banged on the door and even fired a few rounds into it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Ah scrap!" Tungsten shouted as he dived out of the reach of several of the wiry limbs.

There was so many it was impossible for a large mech like him to dodge them all. Several managed to wrap around his legs, tripping him to the floor as they sent a stunning current into his armored frame. Lucky for him he had built up a resistance to stunning; after all, he had never been good at running. Turning around, he fired two shots into the wire appendages and got back to his feet. More quickly latched onto his arm and he fired again, freeing himself. Becoming fed up with the whip like mechanisms he began to take aim and lay waste to all of the dreaded things throughout the room. Once he was satisfied with the smoking heaps of metal laying about the floor and hanging from the ceiling, he set to work getting out of the sealed hull.

"Great… just when you need a scout. Never around when ya need 'em." Tungsten muttered as he tried to figure out how to override the door.

"Hey! I heard that," came a muffled reply.

"Crosshot! What are you doing! You idiot, I ordered you to run!" Tungsten shouted angrily through the door.

He could hear as the mechanisms in the room were beginning to shift again. A slow rumbling sound began to shake the floor.

"Yep, you did. But you didn't specify as to where. Now hold on, I'm getting you outta there boss!" Crosshot's grin was apparent in his voice.

"Repatch is right, you are a glitch head! I'm gonna have to be more specific next time with you. Now get the frag outta here and run anyplace but back here, you half-wired moron!" Tungsten shouted back.

The sound was getting louder. Suddenly the door hissed open.

"Now is that any way to talk to the guy who just opened the door for you?" Crosshot grinned standing in the door way.

It was the last grin Tungsten would ever see from his friend.

It all happened in an instant. From behind Crosshot burst a ghastly looking beast, big enough to swallow a mech whole. The mechanical being's spiked face lurched forward. Its own slithering arms wrapped around Crosshot and pulled him out from the entrance of the hull and underground before Tungsten could even flinch.

"Crosshot!" Tungsten yelled as he ran out of the ship and began trying to dig after his friend, but to no avail; the dry sand making it impossible for him to bore very deep through. However, as he tried to get to his friend, he failed to see the mechanical wires snake out from the ship's entrance once more and wrap around his frame.

"Gah!" he cried out in surprise as his guns were wrenched from his hands.

This time the wires were thicker and much stronger than before as they wrapped around his limbs and neck, pulling him back into the ship. He scrambled to latch onto something, but all he managed to take hold of was the sand that slipped through his digits as he was dragged back into the central room of the ship. He looked behind him to see that an opening was steadily widening in the floor of the ship. And briefly, through the panic and anger, his processor was able to comprehend that it had been an elaborate trap all along.

A stronger current suddenly shot pain through his systems. But despite the shock, he would not give up. He fought and wrestled, as he was brought into the air above the opening in the hull. He glanced down, seeing nothing but pitch black below where the mechanical wires sprouted forth.

"_The slag'n void will swallow you up whole."_

The words of his trainer filled his mind even as he reached for his mining picks in his legs and began thrashing at the abominations slowly pulling him down into the black abyss.

"Grraaahhh C'mon YOU SLAGGERS!" Tungsten screamed in rage as he managed to slice one of the wired bundles in half.

However, before he could use this to his advantage, a terrible shock even stronger then before rippled through him. The energy that had been a bristling pain transformed into a supernova of agony. All he could do was scream before his processor was forced into stasis. Slumping forward, Tungsten's optics darkened as his frame went limp into the malevolent embrace of his captors; the black void having finally claimed its prized victim.

**To Be Continued… **


	3. Chapter 3

**Tungsten's Story **

**Part 3**

**By Rachel Macari**

_The first thing I registered was the stench of oil and half processed energon as I came to in that horrendous place. Once my optics had powered back on, I discovered that the smell wasn't the worst thing. _

_ I looked around to find the pink glow of my containment cell's bars casting a sickly hue over the dismantled limbs and parts of the previous occupants that lay not inches from my own battered frame. I knew then and there that I was a dead mech. Of course I did what any desperate mech would do in that circumstance… I looked for a way out. _

_ I tried diggin' my way out, but the walls were made of something specifically meant to keep me in. So I did the next craziest thing; I tried to ram the electrified energy bars. That didn't go over too well either as I was sent flying back into the wall, landing in the heap of mech's body parts. It had been the third attempt to stupidly ram myself through those bars that he had spoken to me. _

There came a deep rich voice that caused Tungsten to pause, "As amusing as it is to watch you repeatedly mutilate yourself, I wouldn't keep doing that if I were you."

He looked to find the voice had come from a darkened figure in a cell directly across from his own. The only indication of the cell's occupant was the red glow of his optics and the glowing pink light that vaguely illuminated his silhouette.

Until now Tungsten thought he had been alone. He tried to get a better look at the mech across the way as he answered. He focused his optics and managed to make out the form of a seeker and the shape of a purple logo on his wings.

"You're a Decepticon?" Tungsten observed as the other got up and walked closer to his own cell bars.

Once there more of his features were revealed. Tungsten could see the distinct characteristics on the mech's face. Among the pointed panels that adorned his helm were tattoos just under his optics that signified the other was not just a Con, but a pirate.

"Astute observation. Such a smart one for an Autobot. And a Mole no less." the mech said sarcastically as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, appearing bored.

"If you're down here, then who…?" Tungsten was interrupted.

"Who has captured us? Heh, you're not the first one to ask that question. In fact I think _he _asked it before you." the Con motioned to the pile of parts lying on the floor behind him.

Tungsten looked back to the Con, "Don't play games with me! This is a Pirate outpost isn't it? I can read the markings on your face clear as the solar cycle. Who's to say they didn't just lock you up down here for treachery? After all, isn't that what pirates are most known for; fighting amongst their own ranks." he jabbed back verbally.

The mech looked amused at Tungsten's comment "Well you got part of that right. Heh. I won't deny that we do get into a few scuffles here and there; keeps the skills honed."

"What have the Cons done with my crew? Where are they?"

Tungsten was becoming increasingly irritated by the pirate's nonchalant attitude. Not to mention he loathed Decepticons with a passion. The Con waited, letting the silence drift for a few moments before answering; letting the other know he could just leave him hanging at any time. That he had control of this conversation.

"You know you're the lucky one…" the Con again didn't seem to answer Tungsten directly. He gripped at the energy bars despite the zaps of pain he received. He listened, a scowl adorning his features. The Con smirked at that.

"You see you have been chosen." the winged mech laughed.

"Chosen for what?" Tungsten ground out.

"Why to fight of course. To become a great spectacle! A true gladiator!" the Con looked at him as what he said registered and Tungsten's grip loosened as his optics widened in comprehension.

"Wh-What about the others… my crew?" his anger faded away slightly into worry.

The Con's face suddenly turned serious as he picked up on Tungsten's changed mood. Odd that this one was more worried for his crew than himself, the Con had thought.

"They are no more. They have been harvested; their sparks collected and used as batteries to power this wretched place for the sick amusement of our captors!" the Con ground out and it was apparent to Tungsten that he harbored much hate for those he spoke of.

Tungsten's helm slumped forward, contacting the bars, but he could not care. He clenched his fists causing sparks to fly as his sorrow and rage grew. Nitrox, Techno… Crosshot... they were all dead. No… the worst was that they had been tortured to death! It was the most unspeakable thing he could think off to happen to a mech. Their very being was drained away slowly; losing their identity in the process, only knowing excruciating pain until there was nothing left of them to go on… until they faded into oblivion.

_ I realized that, that Con was right… I had been the lucky one. And I hated it with every wire of my being that he was right. It was my fault. I was inexperienced, but they trusted me to be their leader. _

…_I brought them there to die…._

…

Some time had passed as Tungsten sat in the corner of his cell. The Con seemed to have enough honor in him to remain silent and allow Tungsten a time to reflect on his fallen comrades.

"Who are they?" Tungsten's monotone voice finally broke the silence.

He knew that even Con Pirates would not stoop to such acts against their own kind. It was tantamount to cannibalism; taboo even to them. The Con looked at him as he sat back in the darkened corner of his cell.

"You will find out soon enough." He looked up his suddenly wise optics glancing to the end of the hallway where a door began to unlock and hiss open.

_As the containment doors slid open three figures entered. I could see two of them were rather large Mechs of some sort. Their frames adorned with numerous spikes and their optics not depicting any emotion as they marched down towards my cell with their large axes in hand. However, it was not them that worried me the most. No, the last one skulking behind them was what made my vents stutter in shock._

_ It was in that moment that my optics first took in the sight of those responsible for the deaths of my comrades that I also had my answer to what had happened to the countless missing refugees I had been sent out to find. _

_ Many of our race's utter mistreatment had been thanks to the skulking creature that hovered behind the two armed guards. Some had called them our creators. I personally preferred cross-wired, slimy, floating, glitch-headed, monstrosities. Most just settled for Quintesson._

"Restrain _it_ and open the bars" the multi-headed Quintesson commanded the two armed guards.

Tungsten's coiled hydraulics tightened as he prepared to spring the moment the other guards hit the controls that would bring down the energized bars. However, before he could even take a step forward, more of the wire tentacles spouted from hidden compartments in the floor and walls. In a blur of speed they wrapped around Tungsten's legs and bound his arms together behind his back.

"Not again with these things! Grrah! What? Too chickenoid to face me on your own you cowards!" Tungsten growled as he struggled.

The Con laughed from across the room at his outburst, seeming amused to have some form of entertainment for a change. In his weakened state Tungsten was not strong enough to break their hold as the automated limbs clamped the energy cuffs onto his wrists. The cuffs hummed to life as they sent out conflicting neuro impulses to cause all his motor functions to slow.

"Ss—Slllagger…" Tungsten ground out through grit teeth, but even speaking was proving difficult.

The two guards walked into the grunge-filled cell and took hold of either side of Tungsten's bound arms. The pair may have been shorter than him, but both were built quite solidly. He could tell they both possessed powerful grips. The beasts hauled him out of the cell like they no doubt had been commanded to do on several occasions. Tungsten could only glare at the Quintesson in front of him as his pedes scraped against the floor.

The floating monstrosity hovered a bit higher off the floor in order to get a better look at Tungsten. The crimson optics before Tungsten shown with pure hatred. Tungsten stared the Quintesson down; bearing a scowl to rival the other's across his face. Unexpectedly it shifted way and was replaced with a plump, orange, neutral visage to which Tungsten would have laughed at under less dire circumstances.

The floating egghead simply turned around, hovering ahead of the others, "Bring it to the regeneration chambers. This specimen is unfit for combat in its current state."

The guards grunted and began dragging Tungsten along.

_When I was shoved into that CR chamber for repairs I remember the first thing I did was purge my fuel tanks twice in the expanse of the rushed process. That place was worse than the cell I had been in before. It was sanitized and clean like any repair chamber, but what it represented in my mind was fouler then any slag in the universe. _

_ The guilt I experienced as I was pieced back into a stable state was unbearable. To think, I was being repaired by my captors with the very life energy that had been drained from my comrades. It was unbearable for me to think about._

… _Still is..._

_ That whole wretched place was powered by them! By the sparks of the lost and weary who had been seeking out relief from the Legion of Crons! Everyone knew the Quints have a sick sense of humor, but until you experience it yourself, you can't fathom how demented and sadistic they truly are. They had turned that world into their very own theme park! _

_ And we were the main attraction..._

…

"Wh...Where are you… taking… me?" Tungsten struggled to growl out slowly since the cuffs prevented him from speaking any louder or faster.

His only response from the two guards and the Quintesson before him was silence as they walked down a cylindrical corridor. They turned a corner and were met with a heavily armored wall. The giant reinforced wall suddenly hissed and clanked as it shifted, lifting straight up to reveal a metallic room shaped much like an energon cube.

As the door finished opening Tungsten was unceremoniously shoved inside. Once inside, a pink energy field flickered into existence, much like the bars from his cell earlier. As soon as it had finished powering up, the cuffs on Tungsten's arms were removed by more tentacle mechanisms within the room. The instant he was free and the wires had retreated back into the walls of the chamber, Tungsten ran at the field and aimed a punch that would have crushed the Quintesson's current face. Instead, much to his frustration, the energy field sent him stumbling backwards.

"Always hiding behind something! You wait Quint! I get out of here; I'm going to bust you and your buddies up good!" Tungsten yelled out angrily.

The Quintesson had not even flinched. It seemed to regard him for the first time despite having been in the other's presence constantly for the past Joor.

"You have been given two choices…" its monotone voice droned out as if it had spoken these lines countless times before, "You may chose to fight and survive… or, you may chose to fight and die.".

It turned its back on Tungsten and hovered down the hall with the two guards following strictly behind.

"What…? That's not a slag'n choice you slimy egghead! I'm going to personally rearrange your faces!" Tungsten called out to the retreating form as it disappeared around a corner.

It was then Tungsten heard something in the room rumble. He looked up to see the large reinforced door lowering back down behind the force field that contained him. With one final [BANG] it sealed Tungsten shut into the four-cornered chamber. The only thing Tungsten heard after that was the air that filtered through his vents. He looked down at the metallic floor and noticed it was littered with the magnetic sand from the surface.

"Just great…" he muttered, irritated as the stuff stuck to his pedes.

He reversed the polarity in his field once again and it dropped off him to the ground.

A few kliks went by before the rumbling sound filled the room once more, only this time the opposite wall began to lift open. Tungsten was suddenly forced forward towards the exit by a zap to his back. He stumbled forward and looked behind him to see that the energy field was slowly corralling him forward. Tungsten jogged just out of reach of the field's sizzling crackle. Just as it stopped at the room's entrance he found himself stumbling slightly; his footing having landed on far less stable ground that gave and shifted below his pedes. Looking around he scanned the area. It was a giant arena! The floor had been filled with the red sand.

Jeers filled his audios and Tungsten looked up. The source of the noise was a rather small crowd of spectators made up of a variety of alien descent. Most notably to Tungsten was that all of them were listed as enemy species. He saw how creds were being exchanged as he scanned the small group of invited thugs and illegal smugglers. Not to his surprise he found the Quintessons were separated off in their own section that provided the best observation point to watch the activities in the pit below. This was something Tungsten wasn't particularly looking forward to finding out.

Suddenly a loud horn broke the mixed noise of the audience before an even louder roar of excited cheers echoed down the metallic walls.

"I Lord Kledji, begin the prosecution!" a large Quintesson on an elevated throne like structure announced in a gravely but no less booming voice.

Tungsten blocked out the sound as he forced himself to focus and better map out his environment. To his disgruntlement, the sheer depth and height of the pit walls made it impossible for him to climb out. And to top it all off there was another stun field capping the top of the structure; most likely to prevent flyers from escaping as well. Tungsten finally concluded that he was most definitely in over his head…

A large trap door on the opposite side of the arena steadily opened before him. However, as he poised himself ready for a fight, he looked on to find that the opposite room was… empty? All that emerged was more of the ruby sand as it poured out from the room in shifting tides, creating a slanting mound. The room had appeared to have been filled to the brim prior.

Tungsten slowly side-stepped, his arms raised in a defensive stance. Glancing around constantly, he turned to look behind him. He didn't know what the Quintessons had in store for him, but he was not going to be caught off guard. With each step he took it seemed like his pedes would sink deeper into the sandy landscape, making it more difficult for him to maneuver. Warily he noted that the cheers from above had gone silent. Most likely the observers were held captive in excited suspense. For the large gray mech below he was held captive in a similar suspense, however for a much more dire reason.

Tungsten scanned the expanse of the arena. Something was in the pit with him, that he was sure of, but as to what he did not know. The interference from the red, electromagnetic sand was scrambling his sensors making it impossible for him to pinpoint any other life reading outside of sight and sound. Just as he thought he had scanned the whole expanse of the desert floor, he heard it.

_"Grruuureeekk errruuuk eruuukk."_ Tungsten spun around to face where the noise had come from but was met with only air.

_"Eiik Eiik!"_

Suddenly the sand from behind Tungsten burst forth. He spun around as the owner of the primordial cry was revealed. Tungsten shouted as he was forced to the ground; a large weight having pounced on top of him. Eight red eyes gleamed at him as he struggled and clutched two of the eight spiny, pointed limbs of a monstrous creature. Its jaws snapped at him, venom dripping in anticipation for a meal it was unlikely to enjoy. It flailed desperately trying to get at his face for what its primitive brain would think a killing bite!

Tungsten's grasp tightened on the creature legs till they snapped under the pressure, "Graahh g-get OFF!"

"_Screee!"_ the creature screeched in pain, rearing back for only a moment.

Tungsten took the opportunity to maneuver his feet under its abdomen. With one thrust of his powerful legs he launched the monster up and over him. The creature screeched in surprise as it impacted the unforgiving metallic wall with a crack and slumped to the ground twitching. Getting to his feet, Tungsten spun around to look at the desperate beast that had just tried to claim him as a meal.

"An Arachnosaurs?" Tungsten gaped in surprise.

He had thought these creatures to be extinct, but here was one right before his optics! From what little he knew of them this one was abnormally large and unexpectedly aggressive. What had the Quints done to this creature?

Tungsten relaxed slightly knowing the organic creature would not be able to attack him again in that state.

"Hurmph they send an organic beast to terminate me? Do they see me as such a weakling?" Tungsten grunted to himself.

They had sorely underestimated him if that was all they had faced him off against. Tungsten turned around to look up and glare at the Quintessons perched high above. His thoughts were interrupted however when he noted they did not seem surprised in the least in fact they looked rather expectant.

Tungsten felt the sand beneath his feet shift. Lifting his foot he stepped off a mound that had just formed and continued to trail along the ground. Another one was burrowing beneath the sand! He watched the trail that was left in the sand; similar to a jet trail left in the sky; and could tell the creature burrowing had angled to the left of him. Withdrawing his mining pick Tungsten kept facing it, not wanting to let another of the things sneak up on him. Suddenly, another trail sprouted out of the ground overlapping the previous trail moving in the opposite direction. It was at that moment Tungsten realized why the Quintessons were not at all disappointed with his quick dispatch of the first opponent. Tungsten's helm whipped back and forth as he saw dozens of sand trails suddenly forming, surrounding him on all sides.

"Oh slag…" Tungsten's optics widened.

Sand burst from the ground all around Tungsten in small explosions. In a matter of seconds the surrounding air swarmed with pouncing monsters! Three struck him hard in the back even as he swiped his pick into the two aiming for his face.

"GAH!" Tungsten shouted out as he fell on top of the two writhing forms, one knocking his pick from his hand as it flailed to survive but was crushed under his weight.

He rolled over to face several sets of jaws bearing down on him as more of the beasts began to emerge from the blood-red ground. Tungsten kicked out, impaling his foot into the soft underside of the spiderlike creature above him as he grappled with the jaws of another much larger one. It did not take long for Tungsten's highly durable and powerful grip to make short work of the creature's primitive muscular constructs as he reversed the crushing bite and brutally rip its mandibles off.

As the creature rolled off screeching, its blood-splattered onto his frame. He gripped the sharp organic structures in his hand ramming them into the maws and upwards into the cranial cavities of two more attackers. He tried to get back to his feet, grabbing his fallen pick from the sand and by luck alone finding an opening.

The crowd above cheered in delight as they watched the bloody battle below. All awareness of them was lost to Tungsten however, as he focused on staying one step ahead of being overwhelmed by the beasts. It was not that they were very strong individually, it was the fact they were an insatiable, desperately hungry, unstoppable, swarm: _that_ was the problem.

While he scrambled over the uneven sand, he used the opportunity of the beasts devouring their own injured to make a dash for any higher ground he could find.

"Get BACK! GEAA! HRAA!" Tungsten withdrew a second pick and began swiping at the creatures that had followed him as he stood on the crest of a sandy dune.

As he fought on he tried every trick in the book to make himself look as "unappetizing" as possible, but nothing seemed to be working!

"Stupid spiders! What does it take to convince those tiny brains of yours? I AM NOT FOOD!"

Glancing at his dirtied hands he realized he was fueling their hunger further with the scent of blood; even from their own kind they were emaciated enough to be driven into an insane frenzy by the mere scent!

"Stink'n Quints planned this all out the slaggers!" Tungsten swiped at two more stumbling on the sand while sending the other creatures rolling down the dune to be devoured by the rising swarm that was making their way steadily up wards. Tungsten grabbed a few smaller spiders nipping at his legs and hurtled them into several more climbing up towards him. The group flailed tumbling backwards.

"STRIKE!"

He continued doing this, but despite the steady fall of victims being supplied by the desperate Autobot above they kept advancing, like something more was driving them to specifically attack him. Tungsten dodged another attack and the creature went flying down the other side of the steep dune. He looked down to see many were beginning to burrow again after their attempts at climbing failed. He realized it was the reason the dune seemed to be shifting more then before. The creatures were beginning to dig into it making their way upwards to surprise attack him once more.

"Slag this SAND!" Tungsten swore as he struggled with his footing in the ever- shifting mass. "W-Wait a minute…the sand…"

He had thought the Quintessons had simply thrown the sand in the arena to make matters harder for him, given the magnetic field that messed with his sensors, but the more he analyzed the creatures the more he realized that this was their native habitat. There was something more to it that gave them an advantage over him… something more than scent, sight, or sound. Scanning the arena once more he tried to scan the ground using his basic senses; literally reduced to the same primitive perspective of these life forms, ironically it was in that very action that revelation dawned.

He felt something odd run over his frame through the sand: vibrations. Faint but definitely there. Focusing on it, he realized they were electrical impulses passing through the sand. They were being generated by the creatures!

_My mind flew back to the mining colony right then… how they had used a similar technology to detect the energy emitted by Energon veins deep in the core of asteroids. I mean after all how else were they gonna navigate blindly through that sand? Pit, the polarity field had me sticking out like a solar flare. I could feel it in my legs then. The vibrations and movement amassing below me as the primitive scrappers got ready to make their final strike. _

_It's ironic really; I always used to joke to others back on Metro after I had dug my way through a group of thugs, quite literally, that it helped to know a thing or two about mining. How true that statement turned out to be. When yer caught between a boulder and a hard place that knowledge we think we filed away long ago and forgot returns as sharp as the day you learned it. And in my case, just in the nick of time to save my skid plate._

"This is going to be very uncomfortable…" Tungsten grunted as he reversed his field once more and bits of sand began to stick to his armor and joints as he shifted slightly.

He steadied himself and stood still waiting for the attack. At that very moment the shifting under ground suddenly subsided and stopped. It was as if the creatures were confused, trying to figure out where their prey had gone. Tungsten smirked having figured it out. Now he knew how to fight back. Even if it wasn't the best option for him he needed to end this.

Tucking into a roll Tungsten tumbled down the side of the dune heading back for the room that he had been in prior to the match. He could see the pink glow of the energy field as he ran for it. He reversed his polarity once more and the creatures surged after him.

"Come get it you eight-legged monstrosities!" Tungsten shouted out as they surged at him, right as he stopped in front of the field.

Tungsten watched as several hopped out of the ground excitedly before diving back into the sand as they all converged on him. There was no way out this time.

"I sure hope this works…" Tungsten backed up closer to the energy field.

To the audience it would seem he was finally giving up and cowardly hoping the Quintessons would let him back into the safe haven that was the other rom. But they didn't know Tungsten; he never did give up.

The spiders made their move. Leaping from the ground, they pounced together out of the ground, glittering trails of sand following them in the air with deceptively beautiful sparkle. As if occurring in slow motion the all too familiar scene of life and death played out once more before the optics of a being millions of years old.

"… This… Is going to hurt."

Tungsten sent an energy pick into the field its sharp point penetrating just enough to become imbedded into the flow and arc of positive and negative energy that held the field together. Instantly, energy and electricity began to shoot through Tungsten's circuits as he turned himself into a giant conductor. Pure, unrelenting, white, hot pain was all that he felt as he sent his other pick into the electromagnetically charged sand below.

Some of the audience above shouted in surprise, those with eyes shielding them from the energy flare and covered their ears as high pitched unbearable screeching filled the air.

"SCREEEEEKEEEEKEEEEE!" all the Arachnosaurs writhed, thrashing like insects on the crimson sand as their senses were assaulted by the intense disturbance.

Electricity and current coursed through their sensitive conductive hairs right into their primitive brains. There were several loud pops as the ones that had made contact with Tungsten simply exploded.

"They're overtaxing the containment generator! SHUT IT DOWN!" a Quintesson's shout barely registered to the Autobot below.

Tungsten felt his own systems beginning to redline; the strain was too much on systems, on his spark.

"Damn… wasn't a good idea after all…" Tungsten began to fade.

At that point the current was holding him in place, the electrical cling not letting him release the very thing that was killing him. Tungsten optics began to fritz; at least… that's what he thought. The pink energy that was surging all around him suddenly began to morph into shapes, then into something more familiar. Standing before his delirious optics, on the other side of the energy barrier, several servos reached out and gripped his shoulder reassuringly. Nitrox, Techno and Crosshot…

_They all were smiling at me… _

Emotions swelled within him. Even their smiles he took as a cruel punishment that his frying processor was playing on him...

"I-I'm sorry…" he choked as he resigned himself to his fate.

Pain and guilt would be the last thing he felt from this world. It was the least he deserved before he was cast over to the Pit. A strange reassurance suddenly filled his mind and spark before the three illusions before him pushed him away, gently releasing their grasp. The physical world slammed back into Tungsten's sensors like a giant bulldozer as he fell back onto the red sand. He turned his helm, the static in his optics making it hard to see. Somehow he managed to make out the Arachnosoars around him lying dead or twitching in shock. Smoke rose from his frame as he began to shut down into stasis lock. His body had become numb; even his pain circuits were fried to the point he could no longer feel anything in that moment. Like a cloak being thrown over his mind, the world around him began to fade away into black.

The last thing Tungsten's processor registered as he let the darkness blanket his weary form was the shock of seeing the pink hue of the energy field still pulsing. Echoes of Quintessons shouting commands were never received by his audios, only his static- filled vision remained. Whether it was from his damaged systems or something else Tungsten would never fully understand. Amongst the field's glowing light three smiling faces shone before him flickering and nodding approvingly before disappearing, once again…forever…

**To Be Continued…**


End file.
